Black Tie
by TheProblematique
Summary: Spock is wearing a tuxedo without a tie. Where is it? Only Jim knows, and he's not telling.
1. Chapter 1

**So I woke up this morning and thought: Spock in a ****tuxedo! Without a tie! And FLUFF!!! And plot? What is **_**plot**_**, this foreign word you speak of? And UST!!! And Enough Innuendo To Start My Own Country!!! (um, wait, scratch that, that's weird)**

**Then I thought: Only Jim knows where the tie is. **

**And then this happened. En****joy! ;)**

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**Black tie**** – by the Problematique

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**

**Part 1: Formal Wear**

"Spock, I'm only asking politely for appearances' sake."

"I do not care for appearances."

"I know you don't. But I do, in this case."

"Then I must decline your informal inquiry. Despite my heritage, Earth customs remain unfamiliar and alien to me, Jim, as you very well know. And I do not see the logic in your argument, therefore, it has none."

In Spock's eyes the unspoken 'You'll have to make me' is loud and clear. Jim snorts.

They sit in the Mess hall, eating together in what had been companioble silence up until about five minutes ago, when this conversation began. In three hours the Enterprise will drop out of warp next to Earth, and in one Jim needs to be back on the bridge. For now, though, he's looking forward to the big celebration at Starfleet Academy after a long, gruelling few months of high-risk missions, primarily protecting two sensitive cargo ships from pirates.

Everyone important who's alive and can make it will be going tonight, and it should give his crew some time to relax and have some fun. It's perfect, and the instant he was told about it, Jim decided that Spock _must_ be there. Because if he isn't Jim can already sense the ache in his chest caused by missing his first officer.

So the topic is breached over lunch by a confident Jim, when suddenly a wrench in his Plans Not To Miss Spock comes in the form of his surprisingly obstinate Vulcan.

"Well too bad, Spock. Think of this as a minor yet basic part of your duty as my first officer."

"To accompany you to social events from which I shall derive no personal pleasure?"

Is it wrong that Jim likes the way Spock's mouth rolls around the word _pleasure_ in his voice like rough silk?

"Exactly." He says cheerfully, shoving the images away to the back of his mind; a disorganised, mess of a space cluttered and filled with enough suppressed urges to earn him a Surakian membership card.

"But it is illogical to have me attend an event in which I shall not be an asset but an hindrance. There is no purpose to my presence there, since obviously my own enjoyment is not a factor, and I will not bring joy to anybody else." Jim has to let that one go, because otherwise he'll just spill everything and that would _not_ be a good idea. "Of what use could I possibly be to you, Jim?"

_I can think of plenty of uses for you_, Jim's brain supplies cheerfully (or maybe it's not his _brain_, exactly). Jim's mouth is slightly less obvious (but only slightly).

"You will _totally_ be of use to me, Spock! You'll keep me from getting bored. I'm always-" turned on "-entertained when I'm with you!"

"So my task there is that I am to be your personal entertainment?" Spock repeats, speaking slowly and incredulously, like Jim is lowering his IQ _on purpose_.

So of course Jim grins his most innocent grin as widely as he can, hoping to get rid of the gushy mushy warmth settling around his chest and stomach, making his heart lurch and beat at a frantic pace. Which is sad, Kirk, very sad, because you're only talking across a table and good _God_, man!

Oh no, his inner conscience is beginning to sound like Bones. That can't be a good sign.

"Precisely, Spock."

"I am still not convinced."

"Oh come _on_."

"For one, I would require your constant companionship in order to…"

"Done."

Desperation? Check.

"… in order to successfully navigate the social intricacies of such a ceremony which, as I have already stated, elude me in this case." Jim feels his eyebrows raise. "You are willing to do this?" Spock seems perplexed. With a surge of satisfaction Jim realises Spock hadn't been expecting this particular level of stubborn. The Vulcan had been hoping that Jim would let it go. As if he didn't know his Captain.

"Oh come on, don't _exaggerate_, Spock. I mean, if you want me to stay by your side the entire night I won't complain, but don't you think it's a bit of a stretch to ask for my supervision?"

"Your _companionship_. And I am not exaggerating. That would be illogi-"

"You _totally_ are. I've seen you in plenty of social situations before, plus it's not like you don't know how to talk to people, you just _prefer_ not to."

"Vulcans do not express preferences, that would also be-"

"Bullshit."

Aaaand left eyebrow.

"Nevertheless, Jim, if I join you and you regret your decision because, as I have said, I will become a nuisance to you and to the other Humans enjoying the festivities, you will be the one to blame."

For a second (and it's a very brief second) Jim wants to lunge across the table at Spock and kiss him furiously until the stupid, stupid man understands that he could never, ever be a nuisance to anyone, _ever_, because he's brilliant and Jim is so in love with him it's kind of pathetic.

He manages to hold on to his sanity, though only just, and through gritted teeth say: "Don't you _dare_ think that, Mr Spock." The 'Mr' comes from nowhere, but it sounds oddly fitting to his tone. Hm.

Spock blinks in surprise, then nods.

"And don't look so martyred, most of the rest of the crew will be there. _Uhura'll_ be there." Now that he thinks about it, shouldn't it be Spock's girlfriend who's convincing him to go to this party? "Where is she, by the way?"

"I do not know. It is likely she is on duty."

"Oh."

Spock has never been one to volunteer information, and Jim knows better than to press the matter, so he leaves it at that. Still, he can sense Spock is not happy (although he'd deny both being happy _and_ being not-happy if asked, Jim's already attempted to catch him multiple times).

"Think of it as a non-optional social obligation." He says, needling, and Spock puts down his fork and takes an even, soothing breath.

_Yes_. That's the sign. He'll do it now, he'll make Jim say it aloud, make it official that it's against Spock's will, but he'll come.

Um. To the party. Not the… other thing. That would be… just… inappropriate.

Snap out of it, Kirk.

"Is that an order, Jim?" Spock says finally.

"I was hoping we'd gotten past all that and you'd just say _yes_." Jim says happily, the thrill of anticipation singing in his veins. An entire night with Spock _forced_ to hang by his side. Bliss.

"Apparently not."

"You're actually going to make me say it, aren't you?" He chides, like Spock is a particularly obstinate child he will indulge, because Jim knows he's won and victory tastes _awesome_, thank you very much.

"I believe I will."

"Fine." Grin firmly in place, Jim says: "It's an order, then. As your Captain I'm _ordering_ you to the party tonight."

"Then I shall come."

Seriously, that verb should just… _not_ be used, ever again, by his first officer. Jim's grin doesn't falter, though.

"Will I be required to dance?" Spock asks dryly.

Jim chuckles. "Don't worry, I can teach you."

"That will not be necessary."

"Wait… _what_? You can dance?"

Unhealthy levels of burning curiosity? Check.

"I have no comment on the matter."

Jim is being _consumed_ by his desire to _know_, but somehow manages to file away the thought for future reference. There's a slightly long silence that's not awkward, but Jim feels forced to break anyway.

"You know, Spock." He says in a contemplative drawl, leaning his chair back on two legs and looking Spock up and down in a way that's hopefully not as sexual as Jim's libido seems to think it is. "If I didn't know you so well I'd swear you were trying to avoid showing up, not because it would be illogical, but because you just don't _like_ big functions like this."

"That _would_ be illogical, Jim, as I am Vulcan and therefore do not get 'bored'."

"Of course."

Spock's eyes are shining with laughter. Jim's heart clenches in his chest, and he has to resist the urge to laugh out loud, just because he's _drunk_ with Spock's _expression_. They're sharing this moment, this secret, almost, and it's better because it's without words.

"Perhaps it is fortunate, then, that you do know me so well." Spock says finally.

"Yeah." His blood is fizzing, his chest is going to explode, his smile is so wide it _hurts_. "Yeah it is."

*

"There she is!" Scotty points to the slender female figure approaching them, and there's a collective, involuntary intake of breath from every man within a one-mile radius, Jim included, because, well, _wow_.

They are all hanging out right outside the Academy main building, overlooking the vast expanse of freshly mown grass that is now lit only by a few torches and the night sky. It was decided to meet here before going inside the reception, because if there's something Jim's high in command all share, it's a mutual dislike of pomp and ceremony. The general knowledge being, of course, that the pomp and ceremony happen first, and then the party begins.

Uhura is the last to arrive (Spock said he would meet them inside, as it is illogical to skip the introductions, and wasn't the ceremony the entire point of being there, Jim?) and she walks lightly up the steps looking drop-dead gorgeous in an evening gown that's all reds and fires with a plunging neckline. Her incredibly long hair is styled carefully loose around her shoulders, and it swishes becomingly when her head turns. Her eyes are dark and kohl-rimmed, eyelashes infinitely long. All in all, the effect of her beauty is staggering to watch.

Jim applauds this, quite literally.

"Bra_vo_, Lieutenant!"

He begins to clap enthusiastically and the sound resonates through the wide hallway as they walk inside. People turn to stare but Jim's never cared about that, and Scotty joins in the cheering (looking hilarious in a tweed suit, by the way), then McCoy, and Sulu wolf-whistles, and "Uhura, you are _lowely_!" Chekov declares. She blushes but doesn't look embarrassed at all to be the center of attention, her smile is wide and it's clear she's pleased as punch.

"Thank you Captain, thank you very much, boys. You all look great, too!"

Jim is already very aware that they do, and he nods, satisfied that she's noticed, which makes Uhura punch him lightly on the shoulder and smile even more.

She really is breathtaking. It's easy to understand what Spock sees in her, of course, because Jim can see, as she walks next to him with fluid grace and fire, how her sharp intelligence and strong personality are more obvious now than ever.

"Seriously Uhura, you look fantastic." He says quietly, honestly, with a huge grin on his face, and she makes the same knowing nod he did before, the one that means 'Of course'.

They reach the large doors of the Main Hall, already bursting with dignitaries and high-ranking officials, many of whom, Jim notices, look at their rather younger group with either a touch of resentment, condescension or contempt.

"I think they're jealous that we have the most beautiful girl with us." Sulu says, resolutely smiling back at everyone who glances their way (and that's a lot of people). The bright, honest expression seems to unnerve many of the veterans, which is hilarious.

"I think many of them would want to be me right now, but not just because I look good." Uhura winks at Sulu and Jim looks around them at it's true, Uhura's walking in the middle of the group so it looks like she's a super-star flanked by her very own personal bodyguards.

Her very own, very attractive personal bodyguards. And Spock's not even here yet.

Jim finds himself grinning widely, already getting a kick out of this party. Sadly, Uhura's comment makes McCoy paranoid, and he spends the next ten minutes glaring at anyone who looks at her (again, that's a lot of people).

And now they're finally inside and the room is _gigantic,_ Jim remembers coming here often as a young cadet and suddenly he's struck by nostalgia for the Academy and the people who are gone.

"_Dancing_!" Chekov cries, and Jim comes back to the present with a start and doesn't need to force the laugh that bubbles from his throat. He looks around the place and sure enough, there's an area that seems to have been cleared to serve as the dance floor. There are dim, purplish lights on the tables and around the room that cast a nice glow over the lavish decorations, but most of the light comes from there, as the dance floor is bathed in purple-blue focus.

"Your beauty shines tonight, Nyota." Says a quiet voice Jim knows immediately. Uhura gives the person standing in the shadow of one of the stone pillars of the Hall a sad yet brave sort of half-smile.

"Thank you, Spock."

The air is suddenly awkward, but Jim is having none of that, so he eagerly walks forward, ahead of the rest, about to chide Spock for using a metaphor (how illogical is _that_, eh?) when the lights catch his first officer's silhouette and he sees…

Gnugh.

There's a sound in Jim's head like his brain circuits just giving up and _quitting_, and he shuts down.

Unfortunately, at the present time it is impossible to accurately represent Jim's thoughts and make them resemble anything even remotely sane or human or normal or decent or not related to sex or Spock or the tuxedo he's wearing and ripping it off.

Please come back later.

We apologise for the inconvenience.

*

Ten minutes later…

(Because Jim processes things quickly, and his brain is awesome)

So.

Spock is wearing a tux.

There should really be some sort of law against things like that. Some sort of… regulation. Jim is positive about this, he is quite, quite positive. In fact, he'll draw one up himself, if that's what it takes.

It should go something like this:

"_Mr Spock of Vulcan and Earth is expressly forbidden to wear the traditional formal attire known as a tuxedo, a suit or a even a blazer, or any synonym of those thereof, or any combination of the aforementioned items, or any piece of clothing even remotely similar to the previously enumerated garments. Under no circumstances shall this rule be ignored, or forgotten, or dodged, or bypassed, or broken. That saying about rules being meant to be broken? FALSE! Because this rule must never be broken! EVER! Well, never _again_! Dammit! And what do you mean _why_ can't Spock wear a tux? Have you _seen_ him?"_

Yup. All he needs to do now is write it down, and hopefully the rest will take care of itself.

Uh… probably.

Right now he and his first officer stand leaning against a pillar (well, Jim's leaning, Spock is being all calm and Vulcan _near_ the pillar), having eaten and been congratulated for their impressive rate of successful missions enough times to make even Jim, who up until today had thought he could listen to people praise him for _centuries_, quite tired. The good thing is that everyone has begun to loosen up with drink by now, and the party is getting into it's full swing. Jim has decided not to ingest a single sip of alcohol, because he would not be responsible for his actions then.

Spock really, seriously should not be allowed to look so amazing.

For his own sake, if not for Jim's.

The glow from the dim lights makes dark shadows that hide ink-black eyes and sharpens angled cheekbones and outlines the tip and curve of his ears. It's all rather breathtaking, Jim muses, but there's something wrong. Something… off. Something that Jim needs to… _correct_, as it were, and he really, really needs to do it before his head explodes.

The tie has to go.

It just does. Spock looks too restrained (_Jesus_ that is not a good word) with that around his neck, he needs to either loosen the thing or get rid of it. Like, now. Right now.

Jim decides that there won't be a better moment for this, and takes a look around them just to make sure.

The dance floor is totally crowded, Uhura is coaxing McCoy to move, which is an astoundingly impressive feat in and of itself (Jim is astoundingly impressed), but Sulu and Chekov are nowhere to be seen, or maybe he just can't find them among the mass of bodies moving rhythmically to the beat. Scotty ran into some old friends five minutes ago, and sits at the bar talking to them.

So in conclusion, Jim and Spock are alone. More or less. As in, surrounded by people, of course, but also quite alone.

"Mr Spock?" He calls over the sound of the music.

"Yes, Jim?"

Huh, weird. They're both talking in the exact same tone. That's never happened before.

"Could I speak to you for a moment?"

"Of course."

"Follow me."

He is absolutely _not_ allowed to grab Spock by his tie and drag him outside. That would be wrong on _so_ many levels and probably lead to a whole lot of confusion, so really, he must stop thinking about it. Really, Jim. Stop.

Ugh.

_Why_ did Spock have to wear that tuxedo? And why does it have to look so mouth-wateringly ravish-you-until-you-scream-my-name good on him? With the black fabric against the white shirt that makes Spock's skin slightly greener, and that broad back with those strong arms and that amazing ass and his neck! It's killing Jim, oh yes, very slowly, very gently, almost painfully, intoxicatingly _sweetly_, but it's eating him alive. All of it is eating him alive.

_Dammit_!

Jim himself isn't wearing a tie, is he? No, he has this nice, light blue shirt on under the black blazer and the combination is sort of formally informal because he opened the two top buttons and yeah, he knows how awesome he looks, he did it _on purpose_.

But Spock has absolutely no friggin' _clue_ of what he's doing to people!

They walk through the crowd and it's a little like Moses and the red sea because everyone jumps out of their way. Jim will never get used to being a celebrity or whatever the hell it is that he's become now, but he's kind of oddly embarrassed about the whole thing, which is new and… okay, a bit flattering.

Until he spots the women.

So many women. You'd think a party didn't need _that_ many women, wouldn't you? Arcadian women, Deltan women, Orion women, Andorian women, even a couple of Vulcan women, and then, of course, the Human women… all of them looking at Spock lustingly. There are men doing it too, but most of them are more… discreet. The women, they just… stare. And such beautiful women, too!

Jim needs to fight the urge to grab Spock's hand and yell something inappropriately loud at the crowd of people devouring his first officer with their eyes.

"I believe many of the women in the party find you sexually desirable, Jim." Spock points out unexpectedly, and of course decides the best way to do that is to whisper it in Jim's ear like a secret that sends shivers down his spine. Jim's heart nearly stops beating, but he grimaces and keeps walking.

"I really don't think it's me they're staring at, Spock." He mutters darkly.

"It seems rather obvious to me that they are."

In reality the crowd is staring at both of them but of course the boys are much too oblivious for that.

"No, I _really_ don't think they're looking at me."

"But you are so attractive, Jim."

This time Jim stumbles, but manages to more or less recover his dignity and keep moving. Somehow.

"Uh, thanks."

"It is a fact, not a Human compliment." Spock says evenly. "You are the most attractive male in the room, it is natural that they single you out. Given your prospects, intelligence and good-looks, you are, in all likelihood, one of the most attractive men in the city. Perhaps the planet. Therefore-"

"_What_?" He turns around, still walking, to try and read Spock's expression, but it looks pretty much the same as Spock's usual expression.

"Did you really just _say_ that, Spock?"

"It is _not_ a compliment." Spock says again firmly, clearly not pleased that Jim seems to have misunderstood just how very scientific the observation was, and how not flattering it had been meant to sound.

But what Jim heard is that Spock thinks he's the prettiest in all the land. There's something not quite normal with that sentence and the fact that it's true. Sort of.

"You _did_ just say that, didn't you?"

Aaaaand right eyebrow.

"Jim, I was under the impression that you were quite aware of your assets. Perhaps to a fault."

"I am. I just… didn't imagine you'd…" thought about them, Christ "… noticed them."

Also, _assets_?

"I have been your first officer for fifty-one weeks and three days, Jim."

Because that, obviously, just clears it all up.

"_So_?"

"It is impossible to spend an extended period of time with you and not… notice them."

Okay, this conversation just got a really strange new turn and Jim knows he should maybe change it but instead he kind of… doesn't.

"Well, that sure _sounds_ like a compliment, Spock."

Of course then he looks at Spock again and has the misfortune of catching how one of the lights suddenly seems to spill colour and clarity onto Spock's elegant body… and Jim remembers his reason for mentally short-circuiting before. And the reason is that Jim can barely _breathe_.

"Jim, I assure you it is not."

"Nguh."

"Excuse me?"

But by now they've crossed the large hall and Jim pushes Spock toward the men's room. This earns him a stare but luckily no verbal protests. Which is just as well, because he doesn't think he can take hearing Spock's voice at this particular time.

Once inside Jim stares pointedly at the only guy in there and mouths "Out." Needless to say, he is obeyed instantly.

"May I inquire as to what you wish to… discuss here, Jim?"

Spock's tone is off. Huh. Maybe Jim's actions are easily confused with… oh. _Oh_.

Jim suddenly fights back a laugh when he realises what Spock is afraid of, which is ridiculous, and silly, and tempting, and funny. Poor, innocent, gullible (and rather terrified-looking, actually) Commander.

To reassure Spock of the fact that he's not planning on sexually assaulting his first officer anytime soon (although apparently his subconscious didn't get the memo, if last night's dream is anything to go by), Jim quickly says, in his most soothing voice:

"Relax, Spock."  
To which Spock's eyes widen marginally, and Jim once again has to fight the urge to laugh. And then he smiles his best evil smile. Oh he'll _reassure_ Spock, of course, just not immediately. A bit of fun first is something James T. Kirk cannot resist.

Revenge is a dish best served when you'd give anything for a cold shower.

Or something like that.

Right?

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**Part 2 will be comin' up soon! Initially this was just a crazy oneshot, but after having written ten pages of Word and not gotten into the ACTUAL PREMISE yet, I decided to split the monster in half ;)**

**Reviews be Spock-flavoured candy!**

**(okay, there should totally be a Spock-n'-Jim flavour of ice cream, yes?)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so this is that last Part. BUT. There's an epilogue. It's a tiny, fluffy little thing, and I'm going to post it soon, I just preferred it being separate from this part because it didn't quite**** fit. :)**

**On with the show!

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**Black tie**

**

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**Part 2: Smart Casual **

"Jim… what is your meaning?"

Spock is, very slowly, backing away. The sight makes Jim snort with laughter, but he covers that up by faking a coughing fit.

Then he schools his face into his most seductive, predatory look, and drops his voice to a sultry bass. "Spock, you know why we're here. Don't deny it."

It's difficult to talk and not laugh at the same time, but Jim is an excellent actor. The mirrors beside them show the scene in parallel, and it's just ridiculous. But awesome.

Spock looks…

Huh.

Spock _doesn't_ look scared.

What's up with that? Jim is rather annoyed when he realises this. He used his best come-hither voice, too. Why isn't Spock cowering at the corner anymore?

"Jim, you said you wished to _speak_ to me."

But his voice, or maybe something about his tone, has thrown Jim off of his game. What's happening?

"Oh, sure, we can talk too. As long as you're using you tongue, Commander."

This causes eyebrows to raise, but no panic. Why isn't Spock freaking out anymore? Dammit, Jim is beginning to think he's missed something. Oh well, the tie is distracting him again, he might as well end this before the joke goes too far and Spock accuses him of sexual harassment (that would be the day).

"Okay, okay, I was kidding! Come on, you didn't think I'd do it, did you?"

Spock manages to look exasperated and Vulcan at the same time. "You were attempting to be humorous?"

For some weird reason Jim really feels like he's just shot himself in the foot with this one.

"Well yeah! I just wanted to ask you something, relax." He says loudly and brightly. But it's not funny, it's weird, and awkward, and there's a silence now between them that's even weirder and more awkward than when they were talking.

"You wished to ask me something?" Spock repeats, and the sentence falls flat into the air and sort of hangs there.

"Yeah. I…"

Of course this is when Jim realises he's staring at a brightly illuminated Spock again, and he mentally curses because it is not a good idea to try and remain articulate while facing that much condensed hotness.

"I'm taking your tie hostage." He declares.

Good start, Jim.

What's sad is that he actually thinks that without irony, he's genuinely impressed with his ability to sound coherent.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Take it off. It's bothering me and I can't concentrate."

"You are unable to concentrate… because of my tie."

And that's what Spock _says_. What it sounds like is this: "Dear God you've finally gone insane, I knew this day would come, _what_ will I tell your mother?" (Winona Kirk met Spock once; it was a fantastically terrifying and uncomfortable experience for Jim because she and the Vulcan got along instantly in a very strange, we're-talking-about-you-secretly-and-comparing-experiences sort of way).

"Yeah. The thing's driving me crazy. So take. It. _Off_."

He nearly freezes when Spock walks toward him so they stand very, very close, and says coolly: "Then you shall have to undo it yourself."

Biting back the million retorts that come to mind (and yes, they all have to do with sex, in case anyone was doubting here) Jim decides to meet the challenge in Spock's voice.

"Fine." He says, faking nonchalance.

The moment his fingers extend toward Spock's neck he sees Spock's eyes widen a fraction and the Vulcan unconsciously pulls back. Jim snorts.

"Didn't think I'd do it, did you?"

Wordlessly, Spock untangles the knot and lets it hang loose, so it's draped across his shoulders.

Jim, in a moment of weakness, wraps his hand around one end and gently tugs, so with silken smoothness the tie brushes against Spock's collar and then falls from around his first officer's throat and into Jim's hands.

"You are very unusual." Spock says curiously, as Jim wraps the black garment around his wrist absent-mindedly.

"I know. I'm brash and impulsive and unpredictable." But he can't quite meet Spock's eyes.

"Those are two adjectives that may be used to describe you, yes. However, I was not referring to your unusual actions at this moment. Although they do continue to baffle me."

"You weren't?"

"No. Perhaps unusual is not accurate enough. I might have said… 'unique'."

"Unique?"

"There is no one quite like you, Jim."

"Huh." Jim smiles. "Actually, some might say _you're_ kind of like me."

"I am like you?" Spock looks confused, but intrigued.

"Yeah. I mean, in some stuff we're opposites, but with… I don't know, I guess I think we're really similar with other stuff. Our likes and dislikes, for example. We both like chess, and hate paperwork." Spock raises his eyebrows, but to Jim's satisfaction, doesn't deny it. "And we both love our jobs. And I think we're both really passionate about what we do and what we stand for." Before Spock can object to being referred to as 'passionate' Jim quickly ads. "In our own different and special ways, of course." Then he sees his chance, and adds casually. "Hey, and we both liked Uhura."

"Indeed."

Deciding to steel himself and just say it, Jim manages to voice his suspicions. "So… what's up with you guys? I mean… she's dancing with _Bones_, Spock. Is something wrong?" His words are light but there's a gentle, serious undertone as he speaks: Jim might care for (kill for, die for) Spock in ways a little more than professional, but that just means he wants Spock to be happy, in his own, repressed Vulcan way.

He doesn't look remotely happy when Jim mentions his girlfriend, he looks blank and stoic.

"Nyota and I are no longer in a romantic relationship, Jim."

Okay, correction: ex-girlfriend.

This is when Jim's heart does a very weird soaring-yet-plummeting thing which ends up in a kind of uncomfortable lurch, and he coughs to cover up the undoubtedly freaky happy-yet-sad expression on his face. He doesn't know whether it's because Spock is single or that he's just feeling bad for the half-Vulcan. Probably both.

"I'm sorry." That, at least, is true.

He has suspected something was wrong for quite some time now, actually. And Jim noticed how Uhura looked at Spock when they met with him earlier. It was the way Jim knows _he_ always looks at Spock: a yearning, mournful look, of craving for something he can't have.

Spock is looking at him funny. Again.

"What?"

"Why do you believe you were the cause of the termination of our relationship?"

"Oh, no, I don't! I just meant… I'm sorry _for_ you, that it's over. If you're sad about that."

"I am not sad-"

"Okay, okay, if you found it… disagreeable."

"It was a mutual decision. However… I must confess a certain negative reaction …"

Jim waits with bated breath, his thoughts a painful blur. He has to admit to himself that he'd thought _Spock_ had been the one to end it, judging by Uhura's expression.

"…to inflicting pain onto Nyota's emotions. She remains very important to me."

"Of course." If it were Bones saying this, Jim would give him a hug, but he can't really see that happening with Spock, so he sort of shuffles closer to his friend and pats his shoulder. "Uhura is great."

"… yes."

Spock's breath tastes amazing.

Shit.

"Thank you for your kindness, Jim."

He wouldn't be thanking me if he knew what I was thinking, Jim reflects grimly, and takes a few, decided steps back.

"You wanna go back to the party?" He doesn't, and he has the feeling Spock doesn't either, but they can't really hide in here for the rest of the night. Someone's bound to notice they're gone.

"It is what protocol dictates we do." Spock settles for, which Jim interprets as "_No I don't, but we have to, though it sucks_".

"Okay."

As he's about to walk out, however, Spock grabs his arm, strong fingers digging in to stop him. It's the arm around which Jim wrapped the tie.

"May I have this back, Jim?" Spock says, his eyes glinting in the light, and Jim has to take a moment to gulp, as Spock's shirt neck is now slightly open, all it needs is one button less and it'll be perfect… and suddenly Jim's entire nervous system seems to shudder awake and focus on that little white button, and before he knows what he's doing, he reaches out toward Spock's throat.

Spock doesn't pull away, but his eyes once again widen in surprise. Lips slightly parted, and breathing a little too shallow, Jim undoes the button in a quick flick of two fingers, then sighs.

"That's better." His voice sounds alien to even to him.

Spock examines himself in the mirror for a moment, and seems to settle for not understanding the situation.

"Does this mean you will not return my tie?"

"You're a smart man, Spock."

"I believe the adjective is accurate to describe my intellect when compared to the average Human's Intelligence Quotient, however I fail to comprehend why it is relevant in this discussion."

"I'm keeping your tie, now let's go."

*

However, while they're walking back to their table, Jim feels a hard tug around his arm and whirls around, grabbing Spock's hand and yanking back the tie his sneaky first officer was trying to steal.

"Hey! I told you you're not allowed to take this back!"

"That is illogical, Jim. _You_ are illogical."

Jim rolls his eyes, and bundles up the black fabric. "I don't care."

And he quickly strides ahead, and stuffs the tie down the front of his pants, being careful that Spock won't be able to see what he's done. Then he turns, hands spread wide, knowing that even though they stand quite far apart Spock will hear him over the music.

"There, now I made it disappear and you'll never find it!"

To his delight, a slight smile creeps up on the right corner of Spock's lips. From where Jim stands, the full effect of Spock's elegance plus undiluted sex-appeal wrapped in style is quite, quite… quite.

"I believe the statement is worthy of repetition: You are illogical, Jim."

"I prefer _unique_!"

And he walks away, knowing, with a certainty that sends thrills down his spine, that Spock will follow him. And then he smiles.

*

It starts okay. For good half hour Jim keeps his thoughts in check, feeling a lot more like his usual self, relaxed, and he even sort of manages to forget how Spock looks, firmly setting his mind to "just good friends" mode.

They stand near the pillar again, talking as they always do, as though they're just back on the ship during a long, boring shift, and the banter is easy and comfortable and normal.

That is, until-

"Jim, I _must_ ask for my tie to be returned."

"What is it about this tie that you need it so desperately?"

Spock pauses, considering. Jim decides now is not a good moment to preach about the meaning of the word _rhetorical_.

Finally, Spock says something Jim hadn't expected at all.

"I must admit to feeling rather… uncomfortably… exposed, without it."

Jim almost laughs.

Almost.

"Exposed?" He manages, trying not to follow that up with "_Awwww_."

"It is merely to do with the arterial pulse in my neck and the fact that the room temperature is not very elevated, therefore to my Vulcan metabolism…"

"Your neck feels _exposed_?"

"… as I was saying, my Vulcan metabolism, which-"

"No no, you don't get to rationalise this. You said _exposed_." Jim's voice is gleeful by this point, but then Spock moves to stand in front of him, so Jim is leaning against the cold pillar and Spock has him trapped against it, and suddenly Jim is caught again, and he realises that he's staring at Spock's neck with intent, and that maybe he should stop it.

"Perhaps it was not the most agreeable choice of words, and I can withstand the cold much better than a Human can, up to a certain extent. Jim, I am asking that you please return-"

"I'm sorry, but it's not an option."

"Please, Jim."

"I'm sorry, Spock." He means it, although he knows his reasons for wanting Spock not to wear his tie are as ridiculous as Spock's reasons for wanting to keep it on. "But if you knew why I'm doing this… it's really for your own sake, too."

"Then explain your reasons or I shall have to conclude they do not follow a logical thought-process, the likelihood of which seems to increase in direct proportionality to your stubbornness."

Jim doesn't answer. The _words_ don't even sound so provocative; it's the soft, intimate tone Spock uses that makes Jim bite the inside of his cheek.

"I shall take it by force if necessary, Jim."

Okay, so the words are a _little_-

"You don't even know where it is."

When Spock cocks his head to the side his neck looks incredibly pale and _exposed_ and inviting. Like it's just aching to be kissed, or bitten. Jim licks his lips, knowing he's still staring and that maybe he should _really_ stop it.

"I will find it on you." Spock says quietly.

"No, you won't."

But this, finally, this moment, this dimly lit, dangerous moment, makes Jim snap from his trance, and he manages to wrench his eyes away from his first officer, because he _cannot_ let himself lose focus. Spock doesn't know what this is doing to Jim, and so it's not fair to him to be thinking the things he can't help thinking about when Spock corners Jim against a wall.

"Listen, Spock…"

He finally decides that it's not healthy for him to spend another minute standing next to the man he loves but cannot touch, so he will have to remove himself from temptation.

"… I'm gonna go dance, okay?"

Spock looks surprised and his jaw clenches, but nods and steps away. Jim breathes a sigh of relief at this little easing, and doesn't notice how an expression of distressed misery flashes across Spock's face for less than an instant.

"Uh, so, you'll be okay here by yourself, right?"

To this Spock doesn't even deign to answer; he just goes back to his stoic Vulcanness near the pillar, and with a brief, forced smile, Jim leaves.

He's not sure whether the emotion flooding his bloodstream right now is relief or sadness. It's strange, but he really wants to sprint back to Spock and stick to him like glue, and at the same time, run as far from his anchor as his rebellious feet will let him, because it hurts to be so tied to something that doesn't want him, not in that way…

It's easier to pretend he can't remember Spock when he's surrounded by so many people. That being said, it's not easy. Forcing a confident smile on his lips with some effort, Jim walks carefully into the crowd of dancers, trying to spot a familiar face.

"Jim!"

Uhura, of all people, is suddenly in front of him. The song playing right now is quite slow and she moves her body in a gentle swaying motion, and Jim's mouth curls into a grin.

"Well hello, Uhura. Care to dance?"

She gives him a sweet smile that means "Yes" and they start to move to the music together. It's great. He can sort of stop thinking and just enjoy the fun of dancing with a person who he deeply cares for without any ulterior motives. Jim's never had this kind of relationship with a woman before, and it's actually really cool. He likes Uhura because she's brilliant and talented and yes, she's also beautiful, but he doesn't want her that way, not anymore, she's just his friend now, and Jim also likes that there's nothing _just_ about friendships.

Soon, people around the pair start to cast admiring glances their way, and it's almost as though they did it on purpose, her in red and orange and him in blue and black, with the purple lights that make the colours blend instead of clash.

Then the song ends and a faster, more sensuous rhythm begins. With a questioning glance Jim asks Uhura is she's up for it, and she laughs and takes his hand and pirouettes in a whirl of flowing skirts.

Jim can dance and, if he does say so himself, he's pretty good. A girl once said to him that he looked like a lion when he danced; all dangerous grace and energy like a coiled spring, predatory but contained, movements smooth and flowing. He knows that with a partner like Uhura showing off is simply not possible, but he also enjoys making her shine.

The floor around them starts to clear as the song progresses and their showy routine makes others stop in their tracks, Jim can spot McCoy bemusedly watching them, and next to him Scotty, with Chekov and Sulu close by, clapping. Then he sees Admiral Pike, with an attractive blonde woman by his chair, wink at him. They met and spoke earlier during the meal, but Jim wasn't expecting to see the man in the middle of the _dance_ _floor_. He winks back at his old mentor all the same, of course.

To his surprise, however, Uhura suddenly freezes in the middle of a step and stares at something behind him.

Jim turns around, frowning, to see… Spock is walking toward them.

The half-Vulcan's purposeful stride makes everyone leap out of his way immediately, and Jim isn't sure if he does it on purpose, but his steps are in time to the beat.

"Jim, may I speak to you a moment." It's not a question.

Uhura looks more perplexed than heartbroken, thankfully, and Jim flashes her an incredulous look after Spock grabs his arm and starts to drag him away. The moment right before the crowd surges and she disappears from view, Jim is relieved to see Scotty come to Uhura's rescue, and spin her around. She laughs, and then is swallowed once more by the music.

"Spock, what's wrong?"

Spock is facing away from him, still pulling his arm through the crowd, but curiously doesn't seem about to leave the dance-floor, just move around in it.

Jim has no idea what's going on.

"_Spock_."

Finally Spock stops and turns to look at him. Jim can feel the many curious looks upon them, but all he cares about is Spock's strange behaviour.

"I wish to leave."

"What?"

No. _No_. He can't leave. He just… can't. Jim doesn't want the ache to come back, the terrible, knawing ache in his chest and his stomach, that misses Spock, that wants Spock to stay…

"Your argument to convince me that my presence at this event was necessary was based upon the premise that you would not enjoy your time here unless I remained by your side."

But Jim is still stuck on Spock saying he wants to leave in that tone, the tone he's still using now, as though Jim disgusted him, as though Jim disappointed him somehow.

"You… can't…" He murmurs weakly, moving closer to Spock, but Spock just takes another step backward, keeping his distance, and keeps speaking in that flat yet angry tone that acts like an acid onto Jim's skin.

"It is very obvious to me now that you do not need… you do not require my… me. You do not need me here, Ji-Captain. I do not wish to remain. It would be-"

"_Don't_ say illogical." He can't resist.

"There _is_ no logical reason for me to stay. I have observed your dancing with Nyota." A flash of expression clouds Spock's features, and when he speaks next his tone has more emotion than usual. "You are _happy_."

"No, I'm…" But what will he say? He can't ever, ever tell Spock the truth of why he couldn't stay by his side. Why he needed to breathe, just for a few moments, without also needing to make a confession that must never escape his lips.

"Jim, I am sorry, but this is the only viable outcome now. You have eliminated all other choices. I have given you fair warning of what could happen if you did not cooperate."

"Wha-?"

And that's when Spock does something completely unexpected.

They stand apart, so it's three times move obvious than it would have been had they stood much, much closer.

Spock deliberately reaches across the space between their bodies and his fingers curl around Jim's belt.

Oh dear.

"_Spock_!" It comes out as a high-pitched little squeal that Kirk will forever deny happened in the future. If there is, indeed, a future after this. Because he feels like he might die. Any second now.

"I saw where you put my tie, Captain."

The back of Spock's hand is brushing areas that make Jim choke back a hysterical laugh at Spock's use of his title.

"'_Captain'_, Spock? Are you _kidding_ me?" with a pointed glance down, Jim does the only logical thing he can think of: he steps toward Spock, so that at least the people around them won't be able to tell what the hell's going on. Jim certainly has no idea.

It probably looks like they're dancing very close, although the blood rushing past his ears won't let Jim hear the melody, just the pounding beat thrumming with his frantic heart.

"I am merely claiming what is mine, Jim." And _that's_ when Spock slips his hand in, his expression utterly impossible to read.

"Holy shit, Spock _stop_ that!"

Jim falls forward, completely unable to stand on his own two legs, palms slamming against Spock's biceps and forehead smacking onto the hard shoulder. His breaths are coming in difficult gulps.

"Not until I have my tie." Spock replies, voice icy cool.

"_Fuck_ your tie." Jim says vehemently, resisting the urge to bite Spock's neck now that it's this close.

"Cease your struggling."

"My-?" When Spock's nails scrape Jim's thigh he jerks his hips away, or tries to, but Spock's grip is unforgiving. "Spock, we're in the middle of a, _ah_, people around us, you, oh _shit_, oh stop it, stop it please _stop_ it…"

Spock's eyebrows arch in aristocratic contempt.

"I will once I have retrieved my-"

"_That's_ not your tie." Jim wheezes, fingers convulsing around the fabric of Spock's suit, clutching it for support. His legs are going to buckle, this is ridiculous and embarrassing and oh hell no, oh no…

"Stop, stop, _stop_! That's an order, Commander!"

With cold fury sharp in his eyes, Spock retrieves his hand and Jim tries not to collapse onto the floor.

"What… the _hell_?"

"Give it to me."

Jim's laugh is strained. "Okay, we're having this discussion somewhere more private."

"No, I wish to depart instantly and you cannot stop me."

"Actually, I can. I'm your Captain."

"You have no authority over me now."

"My wish is your freakin' command."

"No, this is a recreational activity and your wishes mean nothing to me."

"But…" Spock's teeth are clenched. The sight derails Jim's train of thought somewhat. "Wait, what?"

Unfortunately this moment of distraction is what pushes Spock over the edge. And not in the good way.

"_Enough_. I no longer care to understand your reasoning, because clearly your mental faculties are incredibly poor at this time. I shall depart without the item, then, and our professional relationship may resume once we are back aboard the Enterprise. Until then, I give up. You, James T. Kirk, are the most infuriating, irrational-"

"Don't say illogical." He really can't resist.

And that's when Spock _loses_ it: out of his Vulcan throat a frustrated, angry growl reverberates loudly and makes Jim's eyes widen.

"Okay, okay, calm down, Spock…"

The growl is getting louder.

"Spock, I didn't mean to, uh, let's go outside…"

Now it's more like a guttural snarl. Oh hell. Oh someone up there please have mercy this is a little much for the system…

"Spock. You can't kill me in front of witnesses, think about it. Think about what a bloody mess it would make."

But Spock looks like he's going to enjoy slowly ripping Jim apart limb by limb. And whatever it is that's keeping him from launching himself onto his Captain seems to be in danger of losing.

"Come on, man. It was just a joke."

Jim grabs Spock's hand and tries to pull him outside. But Spock is still and stiff and won't budge one bit. His eyes glow in the dim light and when Jim lets go of his fingers they curl into fists.

"Dammit, Commander! Snap out of it!"

He's about to slap Spock. He can feel his palm tingling with the urge, he's almost raising his hand to do it, and then…

"Jim! Everyone's looking for you." Sulu's smile fades when he sees Spock. "Shit, what _happened_?"

But Jim has a plan. "Sulu, I need a distraction."

"What?"

"Something to make sure no one looks at us. I can't get him to budge. Just… I don't know, do something crazy."

Sulu's eyebrows shoot up sceptically. "Uh, what are you saying exactly, Jim?"

"Get Bones to dance the conga! Pretend to punch Scotty in the face! _Really_ punch Scotty in the face! Kiss Chekov! Oh, that's a good one."

Sulu's face goes beet-red at this last suggestion. "Why the hell would I want to kiss Chekov?" He splutters, which makes Jim grin.

"Didn't say you _wanted_ to, I said I need a distraction. Not that I have a problem with that, as long as you two keep things professional while on duty, and-"

"There is _nothing_ between me and Chekov!" Of course Sulu's tone just makes Jim's smile wider, and confirms what he's been suspecting for some time now. "I mean, has he said something? Never mind, I don't even, we're just… he's nineteen!"

"Yeah, and you're twenty-five. Big deal. Sulu, you _have_ to save me."

"So what did you do to Spock to make him like that?" Sulu snaps accusingly, turning away from Jim to examine the first officer once more. Now Jim's the one who's uncomfortable.

"I can't say, to be honest. Just help me out here before I become the attractive yet tragic victim of a homicide. _Please_."

"Fine."

With a final eye-roll, Sulu quickly leaves. Jim hopes that it's in search of Chekov.

"Spock? Are you in there?"

Spock's eyes are two ink-black pools of undiluted hatred. So, eh… maybe not.

"Breathe, Spock. Try and remember why you like me so much. You don't want to regret this later, right? Come on."

Waving a hand in front of Spock's face doesn't seem to work. His hard jaw is clenched and Jim thinks that if he were to put his hands on Spock's chest he could feel the vibration coming from there.

All right, so maybe he _should_ have given Spock the tie, before. But it's too late now, and all Jim needs is for the people around them to stop sneaking covert glances their way and he can put his plan in motion, and hopefully it will work.

"Hey, is that the Enterprise helmsman and the kid-prodigy navigator?"

"Oh my god! I thought he was underage!"

"No he's not, that was two years ago!"

"What's going on?"

"What are they _doing_, in the middle of-"

"Do you think it's serious?"

"These young officers, they think they can just do whatever they want…"

"What's happening?"

"Oh _look_!"

As the whispers grow in volume and everyone is craning their necks to see, Jim moves close up to Spock's face, and when their chests brush he confirms his earlier theory. Spock's growl feels like a low purr in his stomach.

"Spock, come back to me, eh?"

The Vulcan seems to be making the effort, flashes of awareness making his eyes widen. But it's not enough, he's losing control.

So Jim kisses him.

It works.

*

The cool night air fills Jim's lungs and he tries to think of what to do next. Besides the obvious thing. Because he really can't think of anything else.

"You…"

Spock stands beside him on the steps, and doesn't finish the sentence. Which is shocking.

"What is it, Spock?"

"You did not physically assault me."

"Guess not. Although, in a way I sort of did." Jim's laugh is soft and sad and the night swallows it whole.

"How did you…"

Again, Spock is silent for a very long time.

"How did I what?"

"How did you know, Jim? How did you know it would work?"

The stars are beautiful, Jim thinks. The sky casts blue shadows on Spock's serious, contemplative figure, and for a moment Jim feels like sobbing, something he has never done before in his entire life.

"I didn't. But it was the best guess. If I'd punched you, you would have just hit me back, and then, well, you know, blood and gore, tragic death, yada yada."

"I see."

Spock walks slowly to stand in front of him, his eyes intent.

"I must confess, I felt something when our lips met."

Jim's stomach drops at the same time as his heart soars, which makes for a confusing, dizzy feeling.

"_What_?"

"I am a touch telepath, Jim. I am sometimes able to gather impressions of your mind without necessarily having to meld with you."

To his horror, Jim can't stop a gasp of pain from escaping his mouth. It's incredible, he thinks numbly, how much something like this, this _stupid_ misunderstanding which he doesn't… how much it can feel like Spock ripped his heart out and ate it for dinner.

"I must ask, Jim… do you… are you…"

The silence wears on. It's long and it hurts Jim's brain a little bit. Finally, he can't take it anymore.

"What? Am I _what_, Spock?"

Spock blinks slowly. "May I repeat the experience, to obtain more results and perhaps form a more coherent theory?" The words are low and rushed, and Jim is _confused_.

"You want to kiss me again?"

"Yes."

"For an experiment?"

"Yes."

Oh, what the _hell_.

"Sure. Go ahead." The bitterness in his tone doesn't seem to deter Spock, as he takes Jim's hand and moves them further from the main entrance, so they are hidden from the public eye.

"Thank you, Jim."

And that's all the warning Jim gets. Because next thing he knows, Spock is kissing him.

As in, _kissing_ him.

There's nothing tentative or gentle about it, and Jim doesn't even try to hide the responses in his body or his mind, it's much too late for that and he knows. But it's so _good_ and it feels as though they've both been trying to hold back from this for very long and have finally given in and it's delicious, Spock's hot mouth, and when his tongue thrusts with Jim's a moan builds at the back of his throat, or maybe that's Spock's throat, either way it doesn't matter. The moan turns into a grunt when one of Spock's hands slides in Jim's hair and tugs him closer, and the other lands flat against his back, pushing their bodies together so hard it feels like Spock is trying to make Jim come into him, become one with him, literally.

When they draw apart much too soon Jim feels winded, like someone punched him in the stomach and he can't breathe.

"Was… that… enough?" He pants.

"_No_."

Spock is flushed, and his collar looks ruffled, oh, maybe Jim did that when he grabbed it, how _fascinating_, but the important part to focus on here is Spock's expression, which is intense, and the gleam in his eyes, which speaks of knowledge. He knows. He knows everything.

"Do you mean you need more data, Spock?" Jim asks.

"Yes. Please, _more_."

There's something incredibly sexy about driving Spock to the primal, half-pleading half-demanding tone he's using now. Jim can feel it building; a powerful, exhilarating rush that makes his own face light up, pouring joy out of his eyes like fireworks.

"Have your way with me, Commander."

It's very dark where they stand, but Jim can make out Spock's devilish little smile with perfect clarity when the Vulcan says firmly:

"I am going to take my tie back, now."

* * *

**I would like to give a HUGE thanks to everyone**** who reviewed the last chappie (anonymous people who I couldn't reply to, YOU ROCK!) and also, add a THANK YOU IN ADVANCE to all who review this crazy little fic.**

**Yes, that is my new method because now I'm GUILTING YOU into writing a review before you've even actually done it. Good, right? Is it working? PLEASE TELL ME IT'S WORKING!! **

**I'm not**** crazy. **

**My mother had me tested,**** I swear ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**This is total and utterly unapologetic fluff. Is there a point to it? A reason? Nope. It's just fluff. Not even a 1000 words of it.**

**Because I can ;)**

**_UPDATE: You _guys _I'm so ashamed and stupid for forgetting to say this! But Lady Talla-doe wrote this AMAZING slashpeice of epic Mness that fits perfectly between chapter two and the epilogue (like, seriously, it's scary how well it goes with this, and she wrote it before I posted the third part), and it's AWESOME! You should check it out!_**

* * *

**Black tie**

**

* * *

**

**Part 3: Epilogue (Informal Wear)**

A considerable amount of time later, the following discussion takes place:

"Jim, I must apologise for my behaviour. It was-"

"Don't say illogical." His voice is light, happy.

"… in any case, it was erroneous." And in Spock's tone, a caring, sweet edge is also hidden.

They lie on the cold steps but tucked in a corner behind a stone pillar, concealed by the shadows. Jim is cocooned in Spock's arms, his back to Spock's blissfully warm chest, wrapped in Spock's body, his own personal blanket, and he thinks, fleetingly, that he is never going back to using normal bed sheets again.

"Meh, we're both equally stubborn. It's okay, I was an idiot too. It's just… you nearly _killed_ me with the damn tux."

"Jim, even had I lost control, I assure you, killing you would not have been the most likely scenario. I am afraid I would have probably hit you back, then kissed you."

Jim laughs, his eyes sparkling. "I didn't mean kill me _literally_. I meant you looked so irresistible, I had a hard time keeping my hands off you."

"I see. Well, you failed at _that_ entirely." Out of the corner of Jim's eye he sees Spock's slow smile, and he thinks it challenges the tantalising expanse of starred sky before them.

And wins.

"Hey, you looked good enough to _eat_. Still do, with your hair all messed up like that…"

"I believe, given my half-Human heritage, that you would be committing cannibalism, had you given in to the urge."

"Yeah. That and I make it a rule never to eat my first officers."

"A logical decision."

"Right."

When Jim glances up at Spock's face again and catches how Spock is looking down at him, he lets out a groan. Their heads are tilted in such a way that kissing is, naturally, the thing to do now, and it's all very hot and upside-down, but when it's over Jim sighs.

"You know, you really shouldn't look at me like that, Spock."

"Why not?"

"Because I may look deceptively relaxed right now, but I _will_ jump you again if you don't stop."

"Then it seems the most beneficial course of action for me is to continue."

"_Really_?"

Spock nods. Jim grins widely back, and in an agile move twists his body around, so he's now sitting between Spock's legs with bent knees against the stone floor, hands resting on Spock's thighs, and facing his first officer's stunned expression.

Which then changes into something Jim can easily recognise.

"Yes, Jim. Really."

"I'm game if you are, my friend. Although this _is_ kind of a public place."

With a soft laugh Spock then flips Jim over again and pins him against the floor.

"You are trapped. You cannot escape. My strength is superior to yours."

Jim thinks his half-Vulcan looks rather insultingly smug about this.

"Oh I don't know… I'm pretty sure I can just bribe the jailer and get away."

"What would you offer him in exchange for freedom?"

Jim pretends to consider this for a long time. "Hmmm… I can think of plenty of things, but they all involve me and the jailor getting it on, which my first officer might not appreciate. If he's the jealous type. Then again, you never know-"

"Tell me."

"You are so _bossy_."

"I am curious."

"Bossy."

"_You_ are stubborn."

"Oh, how well you know me, Commander."

"I do."

"You think so, huh?"

"Yes. My memory is photographically perfect. I know every inch of you, Jim. And it… delights me, to know you. It excites me to know you." That's what he _says_. What he means is… oh, you know. "I like knowing you… in every way. To know you everywhere. All over. Knowing you gives me a deep, profound pleasure, Jim."

"Uh… holy shit, Spock. That's just… a little much, don't you think? I mean, are you even allowed to _say_ stuff like that? I thought you were supposed to be all repressed and tortured!"

The corners of Spock's lips turn slightly upwards when he starts to say: "Well, I-"

"Okay scratch that, what I meant to say is: you should _not_ be allowed to say stuff like that."

"Oh. And why is _that_, Jim?"

"Because! You're _already_ smart, hot, sexy, brilliant, funny, intelligent, infuriating, _really_ hot, really smoking hot, have I mentioned all the sex? Because that's pretty amazing…"

"Many of those words are synonyms, therefore you are repeating yourself." Spock's eyes are doing that smug thing again. Except they are also teasing and laughing and happy, and it's very hard not to just go out and shout it, shout "Spock, I love you!" loud and strong and… hell, he just said it, didn't he?

"You love me?"

Yes, yes he did.

"Uh… yes. Please don't freak out?"

"I do _not_ 'freak out'. I am Vulcan."

"_Right_. And half."

There's maybe a second of panicked silence on both their counts, and Jim wishes there was a way of kicking himself without Spock noticing. Unlikely.

"I am… glad."

Jim decides to smile. "Does it give you a 'profound pleasure', Mr Spock?" He asks in mock-seriousness. Spock's playful punch to the shoulder is actually kind of strong, ouch, but Jim just laughs harder.

"It makes me… happy, Jim."

"Oh."

"Very happy."

"Oh."

"Because I love you."

"_Oh_."

"Are you capable of any other vowels?"

"Uh… yeah?"

"Good."

And because nature is just awesome like that, dawn breaks right then.

* * *

**The button on the mouse goes click click click, CLICK CLICK CLICK, click click click**

**The keys on the keyboard go... ****REVIEW PLEASE! (yes that's right, hadn't you noticed how they do that before? ;)**


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